Wake-up time, shake-up time
~ when the old menu stops feeding the day
Musings … my thoughts, every day since March 20, 2003 … now in my 24th year, haven’t missed a day; love the ‘likes’ - thanks to those who click the heart button, I’d love to see more comments and extensions of the conversation - so, please click the cloud-shaped balloon with your comments and/or suggestions - they make this writer better and are shared with all readers who get this publication.
Wake-up time sounds simple until morning arrives by vibration of a device buzz/walking itself off the furniture …
Comfort helps. It doesn’t decide what still nourishes us.
Wake-up time sounds simple until morning starts before my body and I’ve agreed to participate.
The day arrives by that vibration, not invitation.
Some mornings cannot be repaired with better sleep, hotter coffee, or a bowl of something warm that tastes of reminiscence … memories of childhood, ski hills, wool mitts, and somebody else’s kitchen.
Comfort helps.
It doesn’t decide.
Today feels less like breakfast after the alarm, and more like the first meeting after the alarms have stopped being ignored.
We can butter our toast, admire our melting peanut butter as we spread it, and pretend the old menu works.
Or we can admit that our appetite may have changed, or is our taste for things?
What are we still consuming or going through habit motions, long after it stopped sustaining us?
Maybe this isn’t the morning to be fed.
Maybe this is the morning for making choices.
That’s the awkward part of renewal, or reawakening…
It rarely arrives as inspiration with flattering lighting.
More often, it shows up early, when it’s still dark - underdressed, impatient, and carrying a clipboard. Who takes a clipboard into a dream …?
It asks what still nourishes me.
It asks what only fills time, stomach, inbox, calendar, ego, or somebody else’s expectations.
Old comfort cannot make new choices.
I can keep ordering the usual because it is familiar, available, and already paid for in habit. Many of us do. But a life can’t be run forever on yesterday’s menu, even if yesterday’s menu once saved us.
What fed discipline may now feed delay.
What fed loyalty may now feed disappearance.
What fed ambition may now feed exhaustion.
So yes, wake-up time.
Shake-up time, too.
Not panic.
Not reinvention by bonfire.
Just the quiet courage to look at the menu, push it back, and ask what belongs on the table now.
Renewal begins when we stop mistaking familiar consumption for nourishment.